Why have cotton when you can have silk?

Iseldom speak of the days when I pretended to be Audrey Hepburn and travelled everywhere in a Mercedes Benz 300 Cabriolet. Friends and family considered my pretence as something to be endured, and the mode of transport an unnecessary expense, but they didn’t have my vision, or a chauffeur called Dylan.

Recruiting Dylan was easy, though more luck than judgement. I was returning from the corner shop, where I had bought a large bar of chocolate and because it was such a lovely day, I decided to travel home on a passing vintage bus. I knew the bus would take me 800 miles out of my way, and possibly through Italy, but I was feeling reckless, a little giddy, and I was wearing clean cotton knickers.

Some may think my excursion extravagant, perhaps wasteful; some may frown, purse their lips when reading this; and some may be exasperated by my misuse of the semi-colon, but is how I am: impetuous, even with grammar.

And so I grabbed myself a window seat on the bus, sat back, and considered eating my family sized bar of chocolate. Would it be greedy to eat it all in one sitting? Would my fellow travellers think me rude if I didn’t share? Despite my propensity for being temerarious, I still cared what people thought. Thankfully the bus collided with a donkey and cart and my dithering was brought to a halt. I peered out the window, widened my eyes in an attractive manner, only to see Trevor trying to intercept my journey by throwing fruit and veg all over the road. I sighed. Even my heavily applied CGI couldn’t disguise me from my stalker.

I looked out the window and saw an opportunity to escape. It was Dylan driving the Merc. He looked dashing, and possibly diabetic. We exchanged meaningful glances; coded messages; a mental handshake; a wink and a nod; and I realised my chocolate would be safe with him. So I hopped off the bus, but not before flirting outrageously with the bus driver so that I could steal his cap. I was pretty enough to get away with this sort of behaviour, especially when rendered in glorious Technicolor.

I plonked the stolen cap on Dylan’s bonce, thus anointing him my official chauffeur, and settled myself in the back of the Merc. This was more like it, what had I been thinking by using public transport? I had been a fool, a nincompoop. I took a bite of my family sized bar of chocolate. I relaxed, and decided that from now on all my knickers would be made of silk.

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64 thoughts on “Why have cotton when you can have silk?”

As it happens, I do know what terera (Oh dear! wonky keyboatd yime again! that word means, but whenever I see it (not often, I must admit) my brain goes straight to that god-awful poem we had to recite.Yes, the whole damn’ class! “Oh! to see the linstock lighting …we are all in love with fighting…”
Bloody Newbolt! And a few expletives to you, too, Mr.Grange!
But, digression aside, do you now have silk knickers? (I’m asking for a friend…)

Dinah – I have been inspired by Eryl to expand my vocabulary, although I wouldn’t dare say ‘temerarious’ out loud – it probably has a silent m or something. The English language has been cruel to me on several memorable occasions.
Silk knickers? One pair, with a well protected gusset.
Sx

I got to the line “He looked dashing, and possibly diabetic” and snorted a little bit of tea out of my nose… You are wasted here, my dear – you could be the next Helen Fielding. Or maybe Katie Price. Jx

Dinah – Indeed, I am wondering too. BTW, I am trying to give up my habit of making merry with the exclamation mark. I would have given you some, and I feel mean not dishing them out willy-nilly. The semicolon is a poor substitute.
Sx

I have to refresh my memory every time before I use a semicolon or a colon. Hell, sometimes, even a comma gives me pause, and then I do, pause I mean. As to silk or cotton, it seems to be my lot in life to just go with whatever is clean! Now I think it’s time to watch “Sabrina” again. xoxox

Savvy – Me too! Especially with the comma – I think I use commas as badly as I use exclamation marks…..[I so badly want to put an exclamation mark here, but I am trying to limit my usage].
I think I’m turning into a clean freak because I can’t always have brand new.
Sx

Oh! I think I’ll start a “creative writing” school. We’ll have such splendid fun! Exclamation marks all over the place! And points for mis-used commas. To say nothing of colons! (I may have a teeny problem, should a proctologist be in the class!)

Are they directoire knickers? You only need to take one pair of knickers on holiday with you, day 1, wear as normal, day 2 wear them back to front, day 3 turn them inside out, day 4 wear back to front and on the night before going to bed give the gusset a cursory scrub in the bidet and hang them outside on the balcony to dry, ready for morning.

If she had lived a bit longer I reckon she would have ended up being a miserable cow in EastEnders or featured in an episode of Last of the Summer Wine.

Ah, Mitzi…this reminds me of some friends who were going to China.A very remote part of China, with almost no “facilities” and the travel agent advised taking a supply [how much/many constitutes a supply???] of disposable paper knickers.

Kylie – Could I upgrade the barista to the role of butler?? I don’t drink much coffee, but I would appreciate someone bringing me tea and generally doing everything that I can’t be bothered to do.
What is this ‘bamboo’ of which you speak? Is it something exotic that I should know about?
Sx

I am left with the thought that you must have exceptional bladder & bowel control to endure an impromptu 800 mile journey on a rickety, old bus. Although… You did change your knickers at the end…
Just out of interest, how long into your chauffeured ride did the chocolate last? Or do you still have some left? I’m asking for “a friend”…

Mr Devine – Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha [ad infinitum]. Have I any chocolate left???!!!! No. And sadly I can’t eat it like I used to because of the spike it gives my tinnitus. But let’s forget about that; tinnitus is not at all glamorous.
Of course I don’t have exceptional bladder control – I simply yell, scream, cause a scene etc, until the driver is convinced to make an unscheduled stop at a superior public convenience, a convenience with a gift shop or museum attached.
Sx

Are you a fellow sufferer, Mr Peenee? I can only eat chocolate after a meal. If I eat a sugary snack randomly on an empty stomach then I will get a tinnitus spike – which is horrible. Another issue is sleep – if I don’t get seven hours then my tinnitus will be mental all day and I have to have white noise plugged into my head.
I am experimenting with Iron, B12, and zinc supplements at the moment, I think they help. I also think I need more vitamin D.
Sx

Well, I always travel in my luxury personal limousine, driven by my eye-watering female chauffeur, Denise. I would never risk travelling on one of those public transport thingies. You hear the most dreadful stories about what takes place on them – mind-bending drugs, perverted sex and all sorts. As for my knickers, a gentleman never reveals the details of his underwear. Suffice it to say, they are of course of the highest quality and much appreciated by the ladies.

Gracious. Wot larks, eh? Would that recruiting a suitable person for chauffing duties were so easy in this n of the w – been having terrible bother trying to get hold of someone to replace the disgraced Garlick. Not a great deal of luck in finding a competent stain removal technician either, come to that. But enough of my trials and tribulations. I hope you enjoyed all that industrial chocolate?

Mr Batarde! Where have you been? I was contemplating sending out a search party. You are often the first to respond to my bleating, and now I find you at the bottom bringing up the rear.
It is true, good staff are hard to find, and even harder to find staff for a reasonable fee. Best just to kidnap people, like I do, brainwash them, then train ’em hard.
Chocolate, Chocolate, wherefore art thou chocolate?
Sx

A tardy Batarde this time, alack. Combination of absent-mindedness and some hospital-related shenanigans. Nothing to worry about, just time consuming. What’s that about bleating, anyway? Just about the last word I’d associate with your literary endeavours.

First off, the video had getting up and finding a milk chocolate bar.
Where is a passing vintage bus when you need one?
‘Bonce’ – great more British slang to add to my list.
I guess silk helps you from getting your knickers in a knot.

Bill – It is true, vintage buses have become scarce! They should be reinstated, because they look solid, dependable, and rather stylish.
Nothing worse than knotted knickers on your bonce – which used to be seaside attire…oops, no, I’m getting muddled with knotted hankies.
Sx

Well remembered, Mr Auty!! Yes, ‘Please make it wear big pants and a knitting pattern would be nice’ is the legendary lost comment. I left it somewhere and couldn’t remember where…. I will have to find the old post! My goodness, that was funny!! That comment took on a life of its own – losing comments can be more hazardous than losing knickers!
Sx

Eryl – Some people have been known to keep their silk knickers in the fridge along with their chocolate. I hope we have another hot summer because I have amassed a wealth of tips on how to stay cool when the temperature rises!
Sx

What an adventurous soul you are! How did you manage to keep your hair in place while riding with the top down in a convertible?

So glad you got to enjoy your chocolate…and never ever offer chocolate to a stranger on an 800 mile bus trip. They could see it as an invitation to bore you with their stories, or worse, try to recruit you into a cult. Always wear shades on public transportation…it keeps you from making eye contact with the crazies and sends a strong signal that says, I’m too cool for you and I won’t be bothered to acknowledge you…

Mr Swings – I am British! We are masters at avoiding eye-contact in all manner of situations – especially on public transport! But your advice is welcome, and I will never share chocolate ever again.
How to keep hair in place? Hard as Rock hairspray, circa 1984.
Sx

Once, just as he had returned from his usual Sunday visit to Tribschen, he asked one of his students casually where he might find a good silk shop in Basel. Nietzsche eventually had to admit to his student that he had undertaken to shop for a pair of silk underpants. For reasons best known to himself, Wagner wore tailor-made silk underwear. This important commission filled Nietzsche with anxiety. Directed to the daunting shop, he squared his shoulders manfully, observing before going in, “Once you’ve chosen a God, you’ve got to adorn him.”9

———–
No mention of the interesting question of measurements though.

I have been dipping in and out of your drawers over the years and intend to make this a more regular habit in the future.

Good Afternoon, Mr Looby, and welcome! Yes, we have interacted in the past, but lost touch, probably due to my incessant blog hopping – which I don’t do anymore.
Nietzsche buying silk pants for Wagner?!! Obviously I had to Google – they eventually fell out… and then Nietzsche went on a bitch-fest regarding Wagner’s music. Sounds like Nietzsche would have preferred something a bit more cheerful….perhaps a bit of Madonna?
Anyhow, I am pleased you are here Looby, maybe we can encourage Monsieur Pain to focus more on his blog so that we don’t lose him to Instagram.
Sx

As KArl KRAUS once said, “the idea that Nietzsche was talking Saxonian … ” (one of the worst German dialects – you can not reproduce this in English, it is so damn silly – while Wagner on the other hand IS so damn silly that it makes no difference whether he spoke Saxonian or Suebian or whatever) – and NOW I learn that Richie wore silk underwear – and did NOT have the balls to step into shop and get them – ach Übermensch, wo bist du ?

If I ever needed something to assure me that they both are damn idiots, now I have the proof for it.
Thank you Looby !

Yes 63, exactly. Had I reposted the entire thing, (which was getting too long) there was a quote from Nietzsche from a letter many years later about the Wagnerian underpant buying episode. “When one has found a God, one must adorn him!” Untermensch more like!